


A SuperBat-ty Christmas in Smallville

by soithmedicine



Series: Extended Hallmark and Meet-cute AU [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce isn't feeling the Christmas spirit, Clark Kent is trying to be a good parent, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Hallmark movie au!, Holiday Sweaters, I don't feel confident writing Cass so she isn't here I'm sorry, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, M/M, NO CAPES, Past Clark Kent/Lois Lane, SuperBat, Wally and Dick have questionable choices in holiday music, implied birdflash - Freeform, until he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19970380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soithmedicine/pseuds/soithmedicine
Summary: Dick complains that Gotham is too gloomy for a proper family Christmas and that the mansion is too big to feel like a cozy Christmas morning should- so asks for the family to go on a family trip far away from Wayne Enterprises, Tim's computers, and Jason and Damien's more violent hobbies.The family ends up in Smallville, Kansas where they find that their rooms at the hotel have been double booked and are subsequently rescued by local golden-boy Clark Kent who offers to put them up for their entire visit. Bruce is unnerved, but exhausted so he accepts. Can Clark teach Bruce how to embrace the Christmas spirit? Will Connor and Tim admit that they like each other? Will Damian succeed in smuggling a cow home in the car? Will Alfred finally catch a break?





	1. "'Sides, she's been hasslin' me to bring someone home for months now."

It’s not even Halloween when Dick starts talking about Christmas, it was hardly past Labor Day, and he was already complaining about Christmas. He’d talked Bruce’s ear off every chance he got- about how Gotham was too gloomy for a proper Christmas, how it never snowed and when it did all the smog turned it grey in the streets, how the manor was too stiff and formal for a real Christmas, how much work Alfred put into it and how little anyone ever got to see it because Bruce never hosted Christmas parties, about how they didn’t really even spend time together on Christmas once presents were opened - Bruce getting business calls, Tim playing with gadgets, Damian and Jason at each other’s throats, Steph disappeared to who knows where, which left Dick watching Christmas movies with Alfred, the cat, not even the human. It was depressing- and he wanted a real Christmas, like the kind in the movies he’d watch by himself each holiday season. And Bruce would sigh, and dutifully tell Dick that he was sorry he felt that way, until Alfred finally said “The boy is right Master Bruce,” which really meant that a decision had been made, with or without Bruce’s consent- the family would be going on a trip for the holidays.  
Dick had…. Stipulations- a list really, of things that would make this trip perfect.  
1\. No cities.  
2\. None of Tim’s gadgets.  
3\. No fighting.  
4\. No work. (He’d always finish this one with a stern “Bruce” rather than his usual “B.” so his father knew he meant business.)  
5\. Snow!  
6\. Family bonding activities.  
Bruce felt he was justified in being hesitant about a trip. As a single father of five children who could be considered unruly at best, aided only by an aging butler, he wasn’t exactly the most confident in the maintenance of Dick’s third request, he wasn’t even confident in the maintenance of Dick’s second request, Tim was always sneaking his gadgets places, how was Bruce supposed to stop him? It was this hesitance, and several dozen corporate issues at Wayne Enterprises that left Bruce realizing, at the beginning of the second week of December, that he had not looked into any locations to spend the holidays with his family. And seeing as they were supposed to start their vacation on December 18, this left him very little time.  
With the help of the internet, on December 16, Bruce finally decided upon taking his children to Smallville, Kansas- a town that was, as the name suggests, small. It had a Christmas Festival that went back fifty years at least, and there was supposed to be a decorating contest, and he figured at the very least these two traditions would please his eldest child- it was even supposed to snow. Of course the fact that it was also the first place of its kind with a hotel that had enough rooms to accommodate his family had nothing to do with the decision, none whatsoever, why would Alfred say something like that?  
One day, and much grumbling later, the family set out for the long drive to Kansas. Damian had insisted they drive- the boy was perfectly content to fly through the air without a harness while practicing gymnastics with Dick, but had refused to fly to Kansas, which meant that Bruce and Alfred would be taking shifts on the eighteen hour drive to Smallville, Kansas. When they finally reached the hotel it was around 10 pm on the 17th, and ready to sleep until at least noon the next day, the family piled into the lobby only to find that the new concierge had accidentally double booked the rooms, and that they’d already been given to guests who’d arrived earlier that day.  
Tired, angry, and more than a little worried about lodging for his family Bruce quickly caused a scene, knowing that in Gotham, nobody would dare do this to Bruce Wayne, and who did they think they were? Fortunately for both the concierge and the Wayne family, Clark Kent was passing by on his way to his truck when he noticed the commotion inside the hotel and stopped by to make sure everything was alright.  
Being good natured and good humored Clark thought a joke would diffuse the tension. “Hey now, is someone not feeling the Christmas spirit?”  
And his answer would have been a resounding no in the form of a blow from Bruce Wayne had Dick not acted quickly, stepping between the two men and responding. “It’s Bruce! Bruce isn’t in the Christmas Spirit!”  
Suddenly bashful after being called out by his own son, and realizing that he was about to assault a complete stranger he lowered his arm to his side. “Um… the hotel double booked and now there’s nowhere for the seven of us to stay for the next two weeks.”  
&nbs& nbsp; p; Clark’s eyes widened but he just beamed. “Well, no need to get worked up about it, that’s an easy enough fix! There’s plenty of room back at my place and y’all’re more than welcome to stay there, and I’m sure my boys would love to show your kids ‘round the farm.”  
Bruce was, simply put, unnerved by the sudden invitation, but Dick’s eyes were pleading, and he and his family were tired. So instead of outright refusing he asked, “Are you sure? You don’t even know us, and you haven’t even called or texted to ask your wife.”  
Clark just laughed. “Well, hard to ask a wife you don’t have, but Ma won’t mind having a few guests over, ‘sides she’s been hasslin’ me to bring someone home for months now. Really it’s no trouble at all, and we’re only about twenty minutes outside of town, you probably passed us on your way in.”  
Bruce just stared, and then Clark blushed. “Oh, where are my manners- Clark Kent, pleasure to meet all y’all.”  
“Er. Bruce Wayne, and these are my children- Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, and Damian, and our butler, Alfred.”  
Clark chuckled a bit. “So you’re the fella who bought my old place of employment! My ex-wife hates you!” an awkward pause. “I was just about to head on home if y’all’d like to follow me?”  
Alfred took the keys from him before he’d even had the chance to start towards the car, and said “I’ll drive the children Master Bruce, why don’t you ride with Mr. Kent,” in a tone of voice that Bruce knew from years of experience meant that Bruce was going to be riding with Clark while Alfred drove the children- he had just enough of a grasp on the present to hear Dick request William Shatner’s Christmas album, a recommendation he’d gotten from Wally just hours ago, that Bruce had refused to play. He sighed and moved to walk with Clark to the beat up old truck where he climbed into the passenger seat.  
“You really didn’t have to invite us to your home.” Bruce said after a few minutes of driving with the radio softly droning Bing Crosby’s voice.  
“Of course I did, it’s the right thing to do, and you folks looked like you needed some help. We’ve never really had tourists come for the festival before, ‘least not in any real numbers, and the hotel’s been buzzin busier than a beehive with all the people planning to stay for the holidays- mistakes happen, but it wasn’t your fault, so it was the least I could do.”  
Bruce was silent for a moment. “I think you just made my eldest’s Christmas. The nearest hotel with enough room for us all with reviews that didn’t make me anxious was in Kansas City, and he specifically requested no cities.”  
“The trip all his idea then? My oldest- well, he’s not really mine, he’s my cousin’s kid, but he lives with me, is around his age, and all he wants to do is go the city- but he visited me once in Metropolis and said it was too preppy? So he’d probably head to Gotham.” He laughs softly.  
“Is your cousin alright?”  
“Hmm? Oh, he and his wife are fine, they just seem to think that Connor needs an attitude adjustment, and it was live on the farm with Aunt Martha or military school, so Connor chose to stay with us.” Bruce is about to respond when Clark parks in front of an old red barn and grins. “Home sweet home.Doors should be unlocked at the house, I’ll go set up some rooms for you and the kids.”  
And like that, Clark is off, busying himself in the house as Bruce grabs his and the kids’ bags to carry inside. Upon entering the unlocked house, the thought of the manor being unlocked nearly sends Bruce into an anxiety attack alone- he finds a teenager, who he can only presume to be Connor, sitting at the kitchen table clearly having a disagreement with his math textbook- Tim, is immediately more awake and interested.  
“What’re you doing?”  
“Trigonometry.”  
“Do you need help?” A question that was promptly ignored, and followed with a gruff,  
“Clark who are these people?”  
“Bruce Wayne and his family.”  
“And they’re here why?”  
“You solved that equation wrong.” Tim whispers, suddenly right behind Connor and leaning over his shoulder.  
“Clark!” Connor jumps and turns to glare at Clark, seeming to have reached his socializing limits.  
The man sighs, “Okay, lets get all of you situated in your rooms for the night. And we’ll leave Connor to his homework.”  
In the few minutes he’s known Bruce’s children, Clark seems to have figured out who gets along with who, and has managed to get them set up in a way that will reduce fighting, while making sure they all (mostly) still had to socialize. Bruce had his own room, with Dick and Damian sharing one next to his, Jason had a room to himself, Steph and Tim were given the option of rooming together or separate and they very quickly and silently decided to room together, and Alfred, of course, got his own room. Apparently whoever had built this house, had been planning on having a considerable number of children, but it seemed that Clark’s mother and subsequently Clark had been unable to fill it.  
“I’m right across the hall if you need anything.” Clark promises, grinning broadly at Bruce. “Door has my name on it and everything.”  
Bruce nods dumbly, unsure of what to say, when small arms wrap around his leg before pulling back quickly. “You’re not dad?” And the source of the small voice turns and then sleepily lunges at Clark. “Dad!”  
Clark laughs and scoops the boy up, so this was Jon. “Jon can you say hello to our guests?”  
Jon beams just as bright as his father and waves cheerily. “Hello!”  
“Hello.” Bruce says, stunned, this family is confusing him- he can only assume that Connor is an exception, which makes them this bright sunshiny welcome party, and all he can think is that Gotham would eat them alive.  
Clark smiles again, and tickles Jon, causing the young boy to shriek with laughter. “Well I should put someone back to bed, bathroom is the last door on the left, make yourself at home.”  
Bruce ends up just standing in the hallway longer than he’d like to admit and he hears Jon asking about his day, and the boy laughs, tells Clark about how Connor put him to bed and even let him cuddle him today, and he’s struck with just how close and loving this family seems to be- and how it almost reminds him of the days before his parents murder. He’s frowning when Clark comes out of Jon’s room, and the man stops to check on him.  
“Are you alright Bruce?”  
He starts, looking up at Clark, “Fine, fine, just thinking is all.”  
“You’ve had a long day, you should get your rest, we’ll try not to wake you in the morning.”


	2. "Hey, weren't there more of you last night?"

Alfred, per his usual schedule, was up early the next morning, and that alone usually wouldn’t be enough to wake the family, but Alfred rising in the morning, combined with the Kent family was. Clark’s whistling, Jon singing some made-up song to the tune his father was whistling, the heavy stomp of steel toed boots on creaking wooden stairs and floorboards……  
Bruce and the kids were exhausted and were fully anticipating sleeping in, though the general noise of the house had seemed to rouse everyone but Tim, but Dick had always been a morning person so that was hardly a surprise. Though if one thing could be said for or about the family, it was that they were stubborn, which is why with the exception of Dick, the family wouldn't drag themselves out of bed and downstairs until 10:30 or 11:00, by which point the Kent boys had returned from the barn and Mrs. Kent had gotten started on lunch.  
Bruce was surprised to find Connor, rather than Clark, laughing and smiling with an easy “Ma! Let me do it! No you rest! I’ve got it!” he was less surprised, but more startled to see Tim watching the exchange with a soft expression on his face.  
He wasn’t exactly surprised to see Dick wearing what appeared to be Connor’s hand-me-downs and covered in muck, but he was surprised to see that the Kents had let it happen.  
Damian took one look at his oldest brother and rolled his eyes. “Tsk, Richard why are you dressed like that?”  
“Clark and Connor let me help with the animals!”  
“Only because we didn’t know what trouble he’d get into if we didn’t- and while I can wrestle a pig back into the pen, I really don’t want to.” Connor adds, with an eyeroll of his own, Tim’s eyes move from the boy’s face to his biceps and he blushes, Bruce fights back the urge to rolls his eyes at his son, but Damian’s face has lit up.  
“What other animals do you have?” oh no.  
Alfred’s giving him a knowing look from where he’s sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea.  
“Well, we’ve got chickens, cows, pigs, a few horses.” Clark says brightly.  
At ‘horses’, Time perks up. “I used to ride.”  
Connor rolls his eyes again, and then “- hey, weren’t there more of you last night?”  
Bruce takes a mental tally of his children and sighs, “Jason and Steph- honestly they’re probably still asleep.”  
Jon’s jaw might as well have hit the floor. “What? But the sun’s been up for hours!”  
“Steph was still asleep when I left the room.” Tim supplies.  
“Tim, did you even sleep last night?” The boy turns red and coughs, looking at the floor, which is really all the answer Bruce needed, though oddly enough Connor looks a bit sheepish which is something Bruce will have to investigate later.  
“Connor what time did you end up finishing your homework last night?” Clark asks, in a conversational way, that Bruce knows from years of being a father is far from being conversational.  
“Uh….. three?”  
“And you’re sure you’re gonna be okay to help set up the booth at the market later?”  
“Clark, I’ll be fine, I’ll go to bed earlier tonight since my homework’s all done for the weekend.”  
“You’re not out of school yet?” Tim looks shocked, of course the boy’s only ever been to private schools with long holidays.  
“Not until Wednesday.” Connor shrugs, and Clark nods, as though this is normal.  
“Connor’s classes don’t have Christmas parties though.” John pouts.  
Connor ruffles his hair and then scoops him up and throws him over his shoulder, which makes Jon whoop and shriek with laughter and Mrs Kent expertly dodges her grandson’s flailing limbs as she puts food on the table, “That’s because the highschool expects us all to take dates to the Christmas festival.”  
“But you don’t have a date!” Jon laughs, squirming in his cousin’s grasp.  
Tim lets out a shaky sigh of relief, which makes Dick wink at him.  
Clark rolls his eyes and pulls Jon from Connor’s arms and sets him back on the floor, “Boys, _behave _we have guests. Sorry Bruce, I’m sure you know kids get.”__  
“If you think that was misbehaving you wouldn’t last a day in our house.” Bruce deadpans. “Three of my children aren’t allowed to touch sharp objects if a very particular relative is in the same room as them.”  
“You can say Jason, Steph, and Damian, it’s okay.” Tim smirks.  
“Timmy and I are the good ones.” Dick grins.  
“I know that I just woke up, but even I know that’s full of bull-....poop.” Jason slurs from the staircase.  
“It’s okay, you can say shit, I know that word.” Jon beams.  
Clark stares at him, “Who taught you that word?”  
“Connor.”  
“Yeah, not even gonna try and deny it.” He laughs.  
“Excuse you Jason, but how are Dick and I not the well behaved ones.”  
“Shall we recall the events of last Christmas where you hacked every single device in the house to play Last Christmas by Wham or All I Want for Christmas is You by national treasure Mariah Carrey but each device started playing at a different time so it was a cacophony of awful sounds.”  
“I didn’t know Todd knew words as big as cacophony.” Damien deadpans, and Dick has to hold Jason back from the youngest.  
“Why am I bad?” Dick asks.  
“Just yesterday you forced us to listen to Will Shatner’s Christmas album and your disregard for the english language is painful.”  
“Wally likes my puns and the album was his suggestion!”  
Clark just looks at Bruce who has reached over to the table to grab an apple. “They’ll either start trying to kill each other or get tired of fighting in about ten minutes- you might as well start eating your lunch.”  
“Oh, it’s for y’all too! I stopped by the store after I was done in the barn this morning and Alfred told me that Damian’s a vegetarian so we figured some options for him.”  
“Clark, you really don’t have to go through all this trouble.”  
“Don’t mention Bruce, really, least we can do- besides it’s in the Christmas spirit yeah? No room in the inn and staying with animals.” He’s clearly looking for a laugh, that Bruce is not going to provide, even if Dick thinks it’s funny.  
“If you’re worried about Connor’s lack of sleep, I’m sure Master Bruce could help you set up the stall at the market Mister Kent.”  
Bruce’s eyes widen in surprise.  
“Alfred we talked about that, this morning, just call me Clark, please.” But Alfred just smiles around the rim of his tea cup. “And Bruce doesn’t have to do any work if he doesn’t want to.”  
“I can help.” He chokes out. “It’s the least I can do since you’ve been so charitable.”  
Dick looks proud of him, and he’s very aware that it ought to be the other way around, with him being proud of his son for doing something selfless, but apparently, that’s just not his life.  
Jon’s tugging on Bruce’s arm now. “Mr. Bruce, can Damian come into town with me and Connor to see the Christmas lights?”  
“Uhm….. only if Dick and Tim and maybe Steph and Jason if they want go too.”  
Alfred smirks.  
Jason rolls his eyes. “If it’s all the same to you pops I’m gonna go back to sleep.”  
“Can someone please check on Stephanie to make sure she hasn’t died?” He sighs.  
It’s then that the shower turns on upstairs.  
“That would probably be her.” Connor raises an eyebrow.  
“You kids eat and then get out of here so Alfred and I can swap quiche recipes in peace.” Martha looks pointedly at Clark and Connor who both sit down sheepishly with near identical expressions as they pile food onto their plates.  
Bruce insists on using the minivan his family had driven from Gotham to transport the stall supplies to the market so Connor could take Clark’s truck.  
Which is how he found himself, once again, alone with Clark Kent.  
“Did you sleep well?”  
“Oh, uh, yes, thank you…… uhm, forgive me if this is rude but do you all go all out on the Christmas thing because Jon’s mother gets Christmas?”  
“Bruce, Lois gets Thanksgiving, she’s Jewish anyhow, Jon only gets Christmas here- and he does Passover with her in the spring.” Clark looks like he’s holding back a laugh.  
“I’d have been happy with joint custody but, she puts herself in so much danger charging into unstable situations as a reporter, me, and the court system decided it was better for Jon to live with me, and with a city full of places that remind me of Lois it was easier to move back with Ma, and everything that comes with that is just a plus.”  
“I’m not sure I understand how this…. Is a plus.”  
“My boy gets to work with his hands, gets as close a relationship with his grandmother as I do, and gets to appreciate where his food comes from- and of course gets to see the world of the man he’s named after.”  
“Your father then?”  
Clark nods. “Twister took him when I was about Connor’s age.”  
“My parents were murdered in front of me when I was ten.” Bruce replies conversationally.  
Clark just stares at him for a moment as he’s driving.  
“Eyes on the road Clark.”  
“Sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so dialogue heavy! There will be more description in the next chapter.


	3. “‘Sides, it’s safer than living in Gotham at any rate.”

Bruce was now sitting awkwardly in the car beside Clark, fidgeting, it was no less strange being driven around by the man now than it had been the night before. He missed Gotham- things made sense in Gotham. If you went home with a stranger you might not wake up in the morning, you were more likely to find a dirty cop than not so it was easier to just call Jim Gordon directly- even if Gordon trusted the forensic scientist that everyone was at least a fairly certain had killed a cop (and maybe his ex-girlfriend).  
  
He must have looked worried because Clark turned to smile reassuringly. “Don’t worry Bruce, the kids’ll be alright, Connor’s been driving for six years now.”  
  
It was Bruce’s turn to stare. “I’m sorry. How old is he?”  
  
“Sixteen, but that’s normal here, you start learning to drive once your feet can reach the pedals.”  
  
“That hardly seems safe.”  
  
“Neither is raising cows, but it’s not like they’re driving along until they’re thirteen or fourteen.” Clark actually looked smug. “‘Sides, it’s safer than living in Gotham at any rate.”  
  
Bruce was about to make a retort when his phone started ringing, Circus by Britney Spears playing from the speakers. “Sorry, that would be Dick, excuse me. - Yes Dick?”

  
“Father.”  
  
“Ah, Damian, what do you need?”  
  
“Father I want a cow.”  
  
In the background he can hear Connor go “uh dude, your brother took your phone.”  
  
“Damian, what would we do with a cow? You’ve already brought home four wild turkeys.”  
  
“We would care for it.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“We would simply hire someone to make a barn.”  
  
“Damian no- we already have four turkeys, two dogs, and a cat.”  
  
Clark had only been following the conversation from Bruce’s end when he heard a very loud and indignant. “Father, Alfred is _not_ a cat he is family, and I will be sure to inform Titus and Ace that you do not consider them family.”  
  
“Damian, give your brother back his phone.”  
  
“Father, this conversation is not over.”  
  
“Damian, give the phone back to your brother _now_ or you’ll be sharing a room with Tim for the remainder of the trip.” There’s a scuffling sound in Bruce’s ear and then Dick hangs up the phone. Bruce sighs. “Sorry about that.”  
  
“Turkeys?” Clark can’t keep the amusement out of his voice.  
  
“He likes animals.”  
  
“He named a cat after your butler?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“That’s kind of cute.”  
  
“I’m not getting him a cow.”  
  
Clark shrugs, in that infuriatingly easy going way of his. “Well, he’s welcome to visit with ours anytime. Jon was so excited about making a new best friend out of Damian this morning.”  
  
“I’m not too sure Damian will agree to that plan.”  
  
“Connor didn’t either at first, but within three days Jon had him wrapped around his finger.”  
  
Bruce laughed softly. “He sounds like Dick when he was younger.”  
  
Clark laughs. “Shouldn’t be too much longer until we reach the market- the official tree lighting is tonight so everyone’s getting their stalls ready today.”  
“And your mother has one?”  
  
“Yeah! She makes these amazing crochet lace tablecloths, but, and I quote ‘you boys are menaces so you don’t get to use them.’ Which is why she sells them at the market.”  
  
“I have a hard time imagining you and Jon as menaces.” Bruce whispers before realizing what he’s said and desperately fighting back a blush.  
  
“Believe it or not, Connor’s better behaved than Jon- and I’m not sure if Ma knows everything I got up to, but he’s definitely better behaved than I was at his age.” Of course that statement held more weight to it than Bruce could know.  
  
“So the market opens tonight?” Bruce asked, trying to steer their conversation back to their original topic, to spare him any further bouts of…. sentimentalism.  
  
“Yep! And I have to be there to open it!” Clark smiled brightly.  
  
“Why you? Another small town tradition?”  
  
“No, I was elected chair of the Christmas Festival Committee this year, which is fun - Jon loves it, especially because he gets to help be judge the Christmas lights. I think he just secretly likes judging people.”  
  
“Oh, well in that case I’m sure he and Damian will get along just fine. Damian _loves _judging__ people.”

  
“Well he can help! We could make a whole night of it and take the little ones out looking at lights and get cocoa at the diner and everything!”

  
Bruce wasn’t quite expecting an offer for the other man to spend time with his most difficult child, but then again, Clark _had_ offered to let Damian visit whenever he liked and had gone out of his way to accommodate his meatless diet. He was a bit taken aback, after all it wasn’t everyday that a very attractive stranger with biceps that could kill saved your family’s vacation, took care of your kids, and was patient with your questioning… and no, no, he had to get himself out of that way of thinking- as far as he knew, Clark was straight, and he and his family would be here for the holidays and then they’d go back to Gotham and he’d probably never see the man again. Rather than expressing his gratitude Bruce commented a quiet. “You’re a strange man Clark Kent.”

  
Clark just laughed, bright and cheerful, “I remember reading that you impulse adopted a child who was stealing the rims off your car.”

  
“Jason- and I don’t regret it for an instant. I love all my children” And it was true- it had been hard at first, being a twenty-five year old with a nine year old son (especially once he realized that Alfred wouldn’t be raising the boy for him and he still felt like he’d asserted his authority too late with Dick, but he truly did love his children- which he supposed was probably why he liked Clark so much, because Clark also loved his children, and Clark even liked Bruce’s children, which was something none of Bruce’s exes had even pretended to do. He didn’t know how to feel about the warm feeling in his chest- if one of the kids mentioned that he was acting funny he’d tell them that Clark had infected him with the Christmas spirit and that was all- wouldn’t be any good getting their hopes up after all, especially not Dick, who had probably spent all morning hovering around Clark like an overenthusiastic shadow, wouldn’t be good at all.

  
But Bruce was so lost in thought about his little dilemma that he didn’t notice Clark smiling fondly at him with a faint blush as he whispered. “It’s obvious you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some Superbat flirting content!  
> There's some foreshadowing here for later chapters so keep your eyes peeled for updates!


	4. “I think I’d know if he wasn’t my brother.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do five people fit in one pickup truck? What are Jason and Steph *really* up to? Bruce is introduced to dialectical differences between the Midwest and Gotham. Unsurprisingly Connor Kent is full of angst.
> 
> [Apologies for this being hella late- I haven't had a working laptop since the end of July, and refused to write Batman fanfic on the library computer! I've also turned my No Capes universe into a series that will include such tidbits as Dick and Wally meeting for the first time, Jason and Roy getting together, and more! Thanks for sticking around and being patient with me!]

Connor is regretting all of his life choices around the time that Tim forces his way into the cab of the truck. The word forced is used here because Damian and Jon are already seated, and now things are squished - no matter how narrow Tim’s hips may be, two children and a teenaged boy take up space, and Connor himself is not a narrow person. This of course, leaves Dick in the bed of the truck, a position that Jon envied as they went over bumps and potholes. Dick had insisted that it was too dangerous for children, nevermind that Dick wasn’t an adult himself or Jon’s protests that he “does it all the time!” 

Tim had remarked to Connor at the beginning of the debate that “Dick just wants to ride in the back,” which Dick had vehemently denied until they’d hit the first pothole that sent him soaring and he whooped with delight.

“We’re going to the same fucking place.” Connor muttered once Tim was seated and buckled. “We’re going to the same place and there’s only two of them and  _ they _ take the vehicle with seats?”

Damian glanced at John warily. “Your cousin is muttering in a hostile tone.” 

“Oh yeah! Connor just does that sometimes, my brother is weird.”

“Jon, Connor’s not your brother, he’s your cousin.” 

Connor just rolled his eyes but Jon huffed. “I think I’d know if he wasn’t my brother.” 

Tim just shrugged but didn’t argue again, not wanting to upset the deceptively strong boy he was seated next to.

____________________________________________________________________________

Inside the house, despite his claims that he’d go back to sleep Jason is taking advantage of the quiet to discuss cooking with Martha and Alfred, all the while comparing recipes and gladly taking up Martha’s offer of learning to make her “famous” apple pie. While that’s baking, Jason is also taking the opportunity to reread Wuthering Heights, a choice that makes Martha roll her eyes but Alfred claps the boy’s shoulder which makes Jason smile. 

After finishing the breakfast that was saved for her, Stephanie has taken the initiative to wander the farm and get the fresh air that’s so clearly lacking in Gotham. Though she has texted Tim about seven times asking where they’ve gone, she has only gotten a short response which amounts to. ‘Truck w Connor. Going into town.’ And several minutes later a follow up, ‘Demon munchkin took  🍆 ’s phone, wants a cow- I think B said no’.

____________________________________________________________________________

When Clark and Bruce arrive in town to set up the stand, it takes significantly less time that Bruce had initially anticipated, or, well, perhaps it doesn’t- seeing as he gets distracted by the delicate lacework of Martha’s tablecloths and Clark still does most of the work. 

He’s broken out of his fascination with the tiny stitches by a gentle nudge from Clark and a chuckled, “Alright there? Or dreaming about going back to mansion after only one day in Smallville?”

“Just admiring your mother’s work.” He promises, then looking up with a squint. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Another laugh from the larger man. “No, I managed to get it all set up while you were busyin’ yerself lookin’ at lace. I’d asked you a question but you were ‘pert near deaf as a doornail.” 

Bruce turns to blink blankly at Clark, briefly questioning his attraction to the man if he suddenly can't understand what it is he's saying. “I’m sorry I was what?”

“Not paying me a lick of attention.” 

Bruce is about to question his word choice again when he hears a shout. 

“Clark! Yeah you, asshole- listen here!” Comes Connor’s voice through the crowd, and Clark sighs. 

“Connor, quiet down.” 

“No, you listen here. There were two of you,  _ two _ , and  _ five _ of us, and you took the fucking van. Which seats  _ seven _ . What the actual fuck Clark? Anyone with eyes can tell that I’m not your favorite son but Jesus-fuckin’-Crist you’ve got a brain you oughta use it you absolute dumbass.” 

A quick glance behind Connor shows Jon hiding a giggle behind his hand, while the Wayne kids look on in a kind of stunned awe. 

It’s Damian who speaks first. “Actually Kent, I believe you’ll find that you’re only Clark’s second cousin.” 

Connor manages to grit out a “I think I’d know what I am to him better than you.” 

He pushes past Clark roughly as he stalks towards the operating stands. “The sign is crooked.” Tim follows him, albeit sparing Bruce a confused glance while Jon grabs Damian’s hand and pulls him in the direction of the hot cocoa stand chattering on about some comic book he’d read recently. Dick has chosen for once to ignore his tendency to pry and has instead resorted to standing beneath a tree to take a phone call (no doubt from Wally). Leaving Bruce and Clark alone… again. 

“So….. I have- some explaining to do.” Clark whispers. 

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna be honest here guys. I hate Christmas- I have no idea what possessed me to write this fic, but here it is. In July...... hopefull I'll finish it by Christmas. Thanks for reading!  
> I have a playlis of Dick and Wally's bad holiday music decisions if anyone wants it......


End file.
